


That's Business, Honey...

by EmmyRK



Series: Wacky Drabbles [1]
Category: The Nanny Affair (Visual Novel)
Genre: Choices, Choices: Stories You Play - Freeform, Drinking, Engagement Party, F/F, F/M, Fist Fights, Girls Kissing, One Shot, Pixelberry, Wacky Drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyRK/pseuds/EmmyRK
Summary: Wacky Drabble Prompt #52: ”Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don’t think it will help."
Relationships: Robin Flores/Main Character (The Nanny Affair), Sam Dalton/Main Character (The Nanny Affair), Sofia Russo/Main Character (The Nanny Affair)
Series: Wacky Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859050
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	That's Business, Honey...

**Author's Note:**

> Wacky Drabble Prompt #52: ”Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don’t think it will help."

There’s a stinging chill in the air. The smell of exhaust fumes and hops penetrate her senses. New York’s finest late night hustle performs a symphony of car horns, screaming patrons and squealing tires. Her tasteful powder-blue dress flounces melodiously with her curled hair in the wind, sharing a secret dance against the twinkling backdrop of the city.

Brynn Schuyler originally stepped out to the roof to grab some fresh air from the production of what appeared to be an engagement party, created by her majesty herself, Sofia Russo, with the best supporting actor easily being awarded to her boss, Sam Dalton. But like lost puppies, the culprits of her misery found her in her newly-discovered sanctuary. Now, she stands frozen as the two men, Sam and his brother Robin Flores, have thrown down the gauntlet, hurling insults at one another like a schoolyard quarrel. Poetically, they fight for her; ironically, they fight to keep her away from the other man.

Robin waves his white flag first. He turns to Brynn, his eyes softening. “You okay if I leave you two to talk? Or do you want me to kick his ass before I go?”

The sharp sound of joints crushing ricochets in cascading echoes across the rooftop. Robin tumbles to a knee as he guards his aching cheek. Sam paces back and forth like a wild beast in a cage with a jealous fury in his eyes. He’s holding his arm, rotating his wrist while clenching his fingers slowly into a fist.

Robin bounds to his feet. “Are you fucking kidding me, Sam?” His gaze dives deeply into his brother. He feverishly rips off his burgundy sports coat, then hurriedly tugs off his gray tie.

Brynn steps in front of him. “What are you doing?” He rolls up his sleeves, her question falling on deaf ears. “Have you gone mad? Stop this!”

“You want to ‘kick my ass before you go’?” Sam slides off his blue suit jacket, tugging off his floral necktie. He casual saunters closer to Robin, crouching into a ready stance. “Come at me, bro.”

Brynn’s jaw drops. “You can’t be serious?” Robin pushes past her as the men begin to dance like boxers in a ring. Their strong hands guard their faces, preparing to lash out in a venomous rage like a snake.

“You guys!” shrieks Brynn. “Stop this. Now!” Despite her desperate screams, the men continue pacing. Sam flinches first to psych Robin; Robin bobs his head back and forth to confuse Sam. They are focused, and worst, they are drunk on rage.

“Sam, this is your fucking engagement party! What the hell is wrong with you?” Brynn trembles nervously. She takes a couple of steps towards the door to retrieve help, but feared that it would create a scene. She considers being dramatic like in the movies, throwing herself between them, but even that wouldn’t break their trance.

She clears her throat. “Sam, Robin, can’t we just grab a drink, and settle this argument like gentlemen?”

“Brynn, this _is_ how gentlemen solve arguments,” barks Robin.

 **”Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don’t think it will help,”** tags on Sam.

Finally, Robin finds his gumption; he let’s out a primordial battle cry as he charges at Sam, tackling him to the ground. He pins Sam down as he lays in two sturdy punches before Sam’s strong legs knock Robin over, pinning him down, relinquishing some powerful slugs. And so the tumble continues; Brynn watches them ruin their suits, their faces and their dignity, finally covering her eyes as she shakes her head.

The roof door creaks open, stealing Brynn’s attention away from the scuffle. A drunk Sofia stumbles onto the terrace. “Oh, good, you’re here.” She lurches in her gold Jimmy Choo’s over to Brynn searching for a cigarette as she balances two champagne glasses. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Me?” Brynn is shocked, and slightly worried. She and Sofia already had an unfortunate meeting in the bathroom; what more could she possibly have to say?

Sofia drunkenly slumps onto a bench, struggling to light her smoke. “Brynn–” she whines, “Could you be a dear…?” Brynn cautiously takes the lighter from her hands, her fingers being carefully grazed by Sofia’s French-tipped fingers. Sofia leans back, uncrossing her legs slowly, only to cross them again a la Sharon Stone.

She glares at the men as they continue to scuffle, grunting and punching each other. “Oh for fuck’s sake, is it always a dick measuring contest with you two?” She places her hand close to her mouth as if to share a secret, “And let me tell you: compared to Mr. Dalton, their dad? There is no comparison.”

Brynn can’t hide her look of disgust. “You mean–”

“Oh, don’t be so shocked. That’s business, honey.” She takes a swig of her champagne. “Now those two: Sam usually finishes in about forty-three seconds. The clown? All talk. He’s an easy fuck, but you do most of the leg work.”

Brynn crunches her eyes closed. This has to be some twisted nightmare. Why can’t everything just go back to normal? She wishes she could rewind time, even for just a simple, measly twenty minutes: before Robin came to the roof, before Sam found her alone with Robin, before the fighting, before an inebriated Sofia shared her secret weapon to business.

“Darling, are you having a good time?” Brynn pops her eyes open to Sofia brushing the back of her hand against Brynn’s soft cheek. “You really do have gorgeous skin.” Her vibrant eyes pierce into Brynn’s stormy blues as she casually licks her lips before subtly biting them.

As she focuses on Sofia’s perfectly injected lips, Brynn reflects on Robin’s words from early. Alcohol wasn’t about to solve her problem, but, it would help her have a good time.

Brynn grabs the flute of champagne, taking in the bubbly liquid in one gulp before returning to Sofia’s golden eyes.

“Mmmm,” Sofia teases as she brushes her thumb across Brynn’s supple lips. “Thirsty girl.”

Brynn combs her fingers through Sofia’s golden locks as her mouth plunges into hers. Sofia stumbles backwards onto the bench, hungrily pulling Brynn onto her lap. She searches Brynn’s body, finally resting on her voluptuous assets. Brynn rocks her hips against Sofia, as her lips wander down her neck.

Haunting silence makes Brynn pause; was the brawl over?

And there they were: the millionaire brothers with lust in their eyes stood there with blood-stained shirts and knuckles. Robin’s right eye bears a nasty shiner while Sam’s lips swell before her eyes. Their clothes are ruined, but their arousals were still intact.

Sam clears his throat. “Brynn, what are you doing?”

A goofy grin crawls across Brynn’s face, chuckling to herself. _That’s business, honey…_


End file.
